Abstemious
by vermouthhh
Summary: An unlikely pair to say the least: the assassin and the experiment. Thane gives Jack some lessons in control. Jack gives Thane some lessons in patience. And neither of them expect lessons of the heart to join the equation.
1. Chapter 1

**Lessons**

"_Fly, bitch!"_

Her body heaved with effort. Sweat dripped into her eyelashes and painted lines down her bare, decorated abdomen. With a feral grunt she vaulted over a shipment container, limbs blue and crackling with biotic energy, and landed in a crouch. Before the merc in front of her could replace his clip, Jack stuck out a hand. His body smeared into a blur of yellow Eclipse armor before it struck with startling force against the opposite wall.

Jack threw another mercenary fifty feet back in the time it took her to drag in a breath. Her chest tightened in response. It was a damn good thing Shepard worked quick because Jack simply didn't have the stamina to go full tilt like this for long. She resisted a groan as another enemy approached from the left. Her arm swung left and a colossal force heaved him from the ground before slamming him back so hard the shock almost knocked her off balance.

She was panting like a fucking varren, Christ. Her legs pounded underneath her as she bounded over another wall of stacked cargo.

"Jack!"

She heard Shepard's voice somewhere in the discord. He sounded pissed. Not that it was a huge surprise. He was always telling her to stick to cover and to pace herself in firefights like this. She snorted mid-stride. Pace herself? _Fuck _that. She hadn't been manufactured to do this kind of shit with a lot of finesse. Her biotics were about as volatile as her mouth. Everything she did was full force, unapologetic and unhinged. Sure, she lost her mojo faster than Shepard did with his rifle and back pressed against the wall, but she'd take results over mojo any day.

She liked going toe to toe with her enemies. Liked hearing them grunt and groan, watching the life leave them in loaded increments delivered by her hand. Where was the thrill in blowing someone's head off from thirty feet away? Jack had been conditioned to enjoy killing up-close and personal. Though she was long past being pumped with drugs every time she delivered a hit, the elation that followed hadn't left her. Thus, she'd developed a habit of running headlong into their enemies. And disobeying Shepard, apparently.

Her breath snagged in her throat as she let loose a roar and hurled another large biotic mass at an enemy to her right. The hit connected –with the merc and about six storage containers behind him. Red sand burst like a ruptured sunset in the blue afterglow of his corpse and choked the room.

"Damn it, Jack!"

She smirked, letting the cloud wash over her. Sweet, exhilarating familiarity. Her stamina somewhat increased by the exposure, she turned on the remaining targets and sent a shockwave for them that felt as though it could blow the entire fucking Citadel out. The heavy reverberations of energy shook the cargo bay like a drum before reaching the mercs and blasting them sky high.

Unfortunately, she almost blew Garrus sky high too. She was about as shitty with her aim as she was with her control. She heard a muffled curse before the turian got enough sense to roll out of the way of a shower of shipping containers that got caught up in the shockwave. When the dust settled and the echoes faded, silence dampened the room. A quick glance affirmed everybody was dead. Everyone besides her, a pissed off turian and a _really_ pissed off Spectre, of course.

Jack braced her hands on her knees and caught her breath. A bead of sweat dripped from her chin onto the floor. Another snaked from the bridge of her nose to the tip before falling somewhere near her boot. The sound of someone sheathing a rifle met her ears. She straightened with a huff of air to find Garrus standing in front of her.

He stood a good foot taller than her and made a point to look down at her with disapproving, predatory eyes. She met his gaze. Of course, the polite thing to do would have been to apologize. But that wasn't really her style. Besides, she was about to get ripped a new asshole anyway in three, two, one…

"I told you to stay behind cover," Shepard said at her elbow.

He hitched his own rifle onto the back of his gleaming armor and glowered at her when she turned to look at him. Her breathing slowed just enough for her to laugh dryly.

"Don't act like I didn't just save us a good five minutes," she said, jutting her chin out.

"You also almost took out Garrus."

She passed a look at the turian and then popped her lean shoulders in response.

"But I didn't," she wiped her upper lip of sweat, "Besides, he's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Your confidence is inspiring, as always, Jack," Garrus said dryly.

She turned her eyes back to Shepard, who only continued to glare. Her head rolled back and forth as she stretched out her neck. Fuck, she was sore. She wasn't used to going this hard this frequently and Shepard wasn't big on taking breaks with the Collectors riding his ass. Not that she blamed him.

"You gonna slap my wrist some more?" she asked, "Or can we go?"

Shepard held a damn good poker face, she'd give him that. She could feel the heat of his anger coming off him in waves but he merely tightened his mouth and moved past her.

"We'll talk about this later."

She scoffed before following after him, "Whatever."

Of course, she hadn't really expected him to follow up with the threat. She assumed Shepard had bigger things to deal with than her minimal insubordination. But that night he called her up from her dark, quiet cave with a voice that left no room for argument.

"Jack, meet me in the hangar."

The intercom switched off and Jack sighed. She stayed still for a moment, arms behind her head and body stretched out on the cold metal slab she designated as her bed. There literally weren't enough words in the English language to express how much she loathed the idea of meeting Shepard anywhere on the ship. So she used two that summed it up the best.

"Fuck me."

But an order was an order, and she'd made a commitment to him. In return for a shit load of Cerberus files she wasn't even halfway through combing through. It was probably in her best interest to at least hear what he had to say.

She swung her legs over the edge of her sleeping area and ran her thin, tattooed hands over her face. When she stood, the low red light painted her skin in blood. She squinted at it before swearing once more and jogging up the stairs toward the elevator.

Jack hated leaving the engineering deck. Down there, she wasn't bothered. No one looked at her like she had four fucking heads. Shepard was the only one who ever visited –everyone else was either too scared or didn't have access. She liked it better that way. The less of the crew she had to interact with, the better it was for everyone.

She punched the button on the elevator, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was about to join her. The doors slid open and she quickly closed herself inside. So far so good. The metal box lowered a floor and spit her out into the dark hangar a few seconds later. The cool air brushed against her almost bare upper half as she stepped out, heavy-lidded eyes searching for Shepard in the shadows.

"Jack," he materialized at her side.

"Make it quick, Shepard," she said through her teeth.

"You might be out of luck with that one."

She let her eyes fixate on his, searching for answers in his face. He almost looked smug. Whatever this was about, she was sure she wasn't going to like it. She folded her sinewy arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one side.

"What the fuck is this about?"

"This is about your performance today on the Citadel," he said evenly.

"Not this again."

"_Yes_, this again, Jack," he sighed, "You're biotics are powerful, but you don't understand how to control them."

She bristled, immediately defensive. Who was he to criticize her? It wasn't like Cerberus took the time to teach her any fucking technique.

"If you're going to be on my team, you're going to learn how to use your abilities in an productive way instead of a destructive one."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she groaned.

Shepard didn't move a muscle, "Deadly serious."

"I said I would fight for you, Shepard, I didn't agree to anger management classes."

"Not exactly what I had in mind," he said.

All right. Now he was definitely smirking. She opened her mouth to call him out on it when another figure emerged from the shadows. The lowlight from the hangar illuminated the assassin slowly, starting at his boots and travelling all the way up to a pair of expressive black on black eyes. He nodded at her and clasped his hands behind his back.

She'd only been out on a mission with Thane once. His was a presence that unsettled her. He was too calm, too reserved, too calculated. Everything about him rubbed her the wrong way from his spirituality to his steady, controlled presence. He was her opposing force in every way imaginable.

And just like that, she figured out Shepard's plan.

"No," she blurted out.

Shepard ignored her and gestured with a hand to the drell, "I asked Thane to give you some lessons in the art of restraint."

"I. Don't. Need. _Lessons_," she hissed the words through clenched teeth. Rage boiled up in her.

Shepard remained firm, "It's not up for discussion."

He moved past her toward the elevator.

"Your first lesson starts now, and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

She could _hear _the smirk in his voice. He wasn't even trying to hide it. The elevator doors pinged open and she whipped her head around.

"_Bite me_, Shepard."

The doors closed and an oppressive silence began to suffocate her. She turned back to Thane, who hadn't moved an inch. Her fists clenched.

He lifted his head and the dark rumble of his voice made her skin prickle.

"Shall we begin?"

* * *

_Bear with me with this pairing. I've just always needed to know what would happen between these two. _

_This will be as much of an experiment as it will be a self-indulgent thing for me. _

_Reviews always appreciated! _

_Enjoy!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Beginnings**

"Let's just get this over with."

Jack cracked her knuckles as about as indelicately as she could and then stretched her arms out in front of her. She walked a few steps from him, unable to shake the feeling of his gaze. She _hated_ being watched. Her entire childhood had been observed, recorded and calculated. She didn't need that shit now. And yet everywhere she turned on this fucking ship there was someone looking at her like she belonged under a microscope.

She sent a look back at the drell who still hadn't moved. Her stomach tightened. She found the look on his face infuriated her most of all. It even gave the Cerberus bitch a run for her money. At least the cheerleader wasn't shy about her dislike for her. She looked at Jack like she wanted to put her head on a spike. And Jack could deal with that. She _lived_ for that kind of animosity. It made her skin tingle.

But she hated, _hated_, _hated_ when people looked at her like they understood her. Thane's eyes searched hers in steady patterns. She was wholly convinced she was long past having a soul and yet she felt him poking around for it. She shot him a glare, which he deflected with a soft nod.

She almost wanted to tell him that there wasn't anything left for him to find. She'd made sure of that when she first escaped the facility. There was no goodness inside her, no light and not one redeeming quality. She'd erased all of that shit in order to survive. And she'd do it again if she had to.

"I thought we might start with a few simple exercises," Thane started.

He stepped up beside her.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," she said through clenched teeth.

"Hit me."

That caught her off guard. She turned her head, eyes flickering at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You wish for the opportunity to fully express your power," he reasoned, "I would like you to direct it at me."

Well, shit. He did know who he was talking to, right? She gave him a look over, as a predator might size up her prey. He was lean. Tall. Disciplined in every line and curve of his physique. He knew what he was doing, sure. But she'd taken out mechs three times his size before. Thane didn't look quite up to the challenge. And wasn't he dying or something?

Jack shrugged her shoulders. Fuck it. If he wanted her to hit him with everything she had, then why the fuck not? If Krios died on her watch there'd be video surveillance to convince Shepard that it wasn't her fault anyway.

"Whatever you say," she sneered.

She backed up a step from him and her body charged blue. Ripples of biotic energy coursed from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She shuddered with the feeling. A familiar thirst scratched in the bottom of her throat. With a loud cry, she started at a run for the assassin. The energy surged through her as she neared him.

Thane didn't move. He regarded her with a smooth face as she approached. She was convinced he was really just going to stand there and take it for a second. And she wondered briefly just how messy this was going to be for him. But just as she was about to slam the full brunt of her power into him, he disappeared.

Just like that. One second he was there, the next he wasn't. And before she could backpedal something kicked her feet out from under her. With a loud curse Jack went sprawling on her back. The reverberations from the unreleased biotic power felt like they were going to jar her skeleton right out of her body. She gritted her teeth through the wave and as soon as her brain stopped rattling, she snarled.

"What the _fuck?" _

She popped up onto a knee and found him standing over her, hands clasped behind his back, serene, composed, _infuriating_.

"Asshole," she spat.

She let the energy course through her again and sent a shockwave for him point blank. He jumped sideways and twisted artfully away. A few empty shipment boxes exploded on the far side of the room. Jack roared and picked herself up, throwing another. He dodged that just as effortlessly and sent a throw at her that knocked her flat on her ass.

Again.

"Your temper is not your ally in combat," came his steady voice from above her.

Sweat dripped into her eyes and burned them. Her body strained with the magnitude of her attacks. But she ignored it's protest, drew a hand across her face and rolled back up. She threw a heavy shock in his direction before coming to stand back on her feet.

She almost laughed at his advice. Her _temper _was the_ only_ thing that had kept her alive all these years. She fueled herself with rage. Every person she killed, every enemy Shepard pointed her at she pretended were people who had hurt her. The anger kept her stamina up. What did Zaeed say? Rage was a hell of an anesthetic.

Thane sidestepped her attack and it blasted meaninglessly against the hull behind him. She panted and waited to charge up once more, but before she could blink he was upon her. She threw a bare fist at him, which he deflected. Her arm slapped against his wrist. Baffled, she attempted to throw the left but his leg swept hers out from under her again. For the third time in too damn short a stint she hit the cold metal of the cargo bay. Her head reeled back and smacked hard enough to make her see stars.

"_Fuck_," she groaned.

A green hand swayed in her blurred vision. Once she focused, she glared at it, and then up at its owner. She debated spitting at him but thought better of it. He'd probably be reporting to Shepard, after all. She scoffed at his offer for help and pulled herself up without his help. Sweat rolled down the bridge of her nose. She wiped her palms on her pants.

"I know this is frustrating for you," he mediated, his hand returning to his side.

She bristled. Her eyes turned to burnished flame.

"You don't know a _thing_ about me," she let her voice drip poison into the stunned silent cargo bay, "Don't try and fucking pretend, Krios."

He blinked black-on-black eyes.

"Jack. Subject Zero. An exemplary figure in human biotic experimentation. You were tortured as a child and conditioned to be unrestrained. To be merciless. You have been killing for as long as I have. Though you have lived your life depending on such beginnings, whereas I have lived mine serving them."

He tilted his chin just the slightest bit at her. The light reflected off the smooth, emerald luster of his skin. She hated him. She wanted to dig those creepy fucking black eyes out of his skull for him and feed them to a varren. See how goddamn philosophical he would feel then.

Her nostrils flared with a slow breath. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. There were a number of things she wanted to say to him, but she set her jaw. She needed those Cerberus files. And she knew Shepard wasn't above taking them away from her like she was a kid being put in time out. So she narrowed her eyes instead and turned for the elevator.

"I don't need this shit."

Thane didn't say anything. But his silence provoked her. The fact that he was still _breathing_ provoked her. She spun just before she reached the elevator and pointed a finger at him.

"Shepard asked you to give me some pointers – that doesn't give you the right to fucking psychoanalyze me," she said through clenched teeth, "Try it again and I'll kill you."

Not that she had anything to back that statement up with, but she was too pissed off to care about logistics or the fact that she'd just gotten her ass handed to her by the person she was threatening. She half-expected him to comment, but he didn't. Of course he didn't, this was Thane. He hadn't moved a muscle in his face the entire session. And she expected him to be snarky?

Thane ducked his head respectfully, "I apologize. I had no intentions of upsetting you."

Jesus Christ. She could handle snark. Shepard dished out enough of it and she handled his bullshit just fine. But she didn't know what to do with Thane's composure. She couldn't crack it. She couldn't get a reaction out of him. No matter how lewd, how harsh, how disrespectful she was, he remained impassive.

She was the unstoppable force and he was the immovable object. There was no resolution here.

Only one thing was clear. She needed to get out of the cargo bay before she blew herself out of a fucking airlock.

Jack slammed her fist into the button on the elevator. Once it opened she closed herself inside and didn't spare him a parting glance. The doors closed with a satisfying swish. In private, she rubbed her bare shoulders and tried to erase the feel of his gaze.

"Ugh."

Once back in her low, red-lit cave she flattened herself on her makeshift bed and tried to fall asleep. But blood burned too loudly in her skull and the cold chill of the assassin's analytic eyes refused to leave her. She spent the night staring at the ceiling and failing at ignoring the echo of a low voice in the back of her head.

_You've lived your life depending on such beginnings. _


End file.
